


Collared

by HobbitSpaceCase



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Collared Steve, HYDRA Trash Party, I've been told I am a tease for this, M/M, Steve is a bit tied up, by Rumlow, not sorry, sorry - Freeform, unwanted boners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 09:37:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5201054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitSpaceCase/pseuds/HobbitSpaceCase
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angry, unwillingly collared Steve for a HYDRA Trash Party prompt.  That is the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collared

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Scappodaqui for the betaing!

Something was very, very wrong. Steve woke up kneeling on a tiled floor, held up by his arms stretched out behind him and shackled to what he assumed was the wall. There was just enough length to the chains around his wrists that if he leaned back and stretched out his fingers, they barely brushed against more tile. A bar between his legs held his knees apart, and a collar that felt like leather and metal wrapped around his neck. Most worryingly, he was completely naked.  
  
He blinked his eyes open, and then had to blink several more times to bring things into focus. Whatever had taken him out had done a real number on him. His vision was swimming worse than the time pre-serum when he’d gotten pneumonia and nearly died of a fever that left him feeling cold even with what had felt like all the blankets in his ma’s house stacked on top of him.  
  
He tried to jerk himself forward to free his hands, and was brought up short by the clanking of chains tightening as the collar dug into his neck. The leather dug into his throat, and he coughed once before leaning back again and letting the chain go slack. Slowly, the swirling mess of color in front of him resolved itself into a grimy tiled room. A heavy metal door was set into the wall across from him, and occasional smears of dark red marred the yellowish tiles of the rest of the room. Steve’s uniform lay in a crumpled pile next to the door, well out of reach. He jerked at his restraints again to be sure, straining forwards until he could hardly breathe from the bite of the collar. When black spots began to dance at the edge of his vision, he finally admitted temporary defeat.  
  
Once the chains settled, the room was silent enough that Steve could hear his teeth grinding. The chains holding him were clearly reinforced, but even so he would be able to break them if he could leverage his weight correctly. As it was, with his arms twisted up behind him and his balance thrown off by the bar between his legs, every time he tried to move into a better position, all he managed to do was choke himself. He growled through clenched teeth, feeling his adam’s apple bob against the collar.  
  
By the time the door opened, Steve had managed to work himself into a panting mess. Drool ran down his chin from the coughing fits the repeated choking had induced, and he’d nearly dislocated his shoulder. Nevertheless, he bared his teeth at the person coming through the door, unwilling to give them anything no matter what they had planned.  
  
An unfamiliar man in a bulky black suit and a helmet that covered his entire head entered the room, dragging a chair behind him. When he reached the center of the room, still well out of Steve’s reach, he swung the chair around and sprawled in it. For all his pretense, he moved stiffly. He did not speak immediately.  
  
Steve could get no read on the man through the blocky helmet, but he refused to speak first. He clamped his mouth shut instead and glared. Eventually, his patience won out, as the man sighed and leaned forward.  
  
“Y’know, Cap,” he said, in a voice that was scratchy and pained, yet almost familiar, “You have been a real pain in my ass. I think it’s about time I returned the favor.”  
  
It took Steve a moment to realize the rasping huffs of air through the mask were laughter. He sat up as well as he was able without choking himself again and spat out, “You gonna ask any questions, or just make threats?”  
  
More quiet, sandpaper laughter followed Steve’s words. Rather than answering him, the man reached forward to run one glove-covered finger down Steve’s chest. Steve tried to bite it, but only succeeded in tightening the collar till he was gasping.  
  
“You’re a helluva lot prettier like this, y’know, Cap?” the man said, before wrapping his whole hand around Steve’s cock. Steve choked on his own saliva this time, hips bucking once involuntarily into the man’s hand before he stilled them. The heat all down his front meant he was almost certainly turning a nice bright red, but he just grit his teeth and glared harder. He hadn’t even noticed how close the man had come during his failed attempt at biting the arm in front of him, but now his captor was kneeling in front of him, one finger still trailing lines up and down his chest while the other gripped his cock. The contact was not as unpleasant as Steve would have liked.  
  
No one besides a few SHIELD doctors had seen Steve naked since 1944. He hadn’t tried to be celibate since waking up. He’d even had a few opportunities (dates he had carefully _not_ told Natasha about), but each time he found himself making an excuse to go home alone. Apparently all it would have taken was being tied up with a half-familiar stranger to get him in the mood.  
  
“So you’re a bully _and_ a sick pervert, huh?” Steve asked, doing his best to sneer. “Y’know, I should really stop being surprised at how often those things go together.” When the man twisted his hand, Steve’s voice trailed off into a whine that he had to grit his teeth against. This sick fucker wasn’t getting anything he wanted from Steve, pain and embarrassment included. He bit down on his lip when the hand snaked lower between his legs, brushing against his balls before sliding further back. He just needed to wait a little bit longer –  
  
And then the man shifted closer, and Steve lashed out, swallowing air before the collar tightened to a chokehold and ramming his head against the masked forehead of his captor. Stars speckled his vision as his head bounced off hard metal, and his captor swore. “Fuck,” the man growled, shaking his head and gripping Steve’s balls in a bruising hold. “That _fucking_ hurt.”   
  
From the way his voice ground over the words, it sounded like speaking hurt, too. Steve sure as hell hoped the fucker was hurting. Maybe it would distract him from what his touches were doing to Steve.   
  
The grip around Steve’s balls tightened further, dragging another unwilling whine from his throat. His captor snarled, a low rasping sound at the back of his throat. “You’re gonna pay for that fucking stunt.”  
  
The man walked around behind Steve, still gripping a handful of hair at the top of Steve’s head that twisted painfully as he moved. He leaned down, close to Steve’s ear, and whispered, “I know I said this wasn’t personal, Cap, but y’know what? I lied.”


End file.
